If I Were a Surprise

If I were a surprise,
I would be the one that
brought the tears to Emily’s eyes.
Her mom hustled her into
the car with nary a please.
No time to dawdle,
we have to go now.

I had driven 1,800 miles
in two days instead of three
to pick up my daughter for
summer vacation.

The shock was complete
and watching it register
on Emily’s face was
something to behold.

She first looked,
then started smiling
wider and wider
as the tears started and
her chatter stopped.

“Daddy, you tricked me,
you weren’t supposed
to be here until
tomorrow or something,”
came through my little girl’s
happy cries.
Come to think of it,
I was a surprise.

Hot Air Balloon

How quaint I should think
not of a New Mexico sky
filled with floating orbs of
every color,
but an old busybody
who was free to tell everyone,
but mostly her family
how poorly they behave
and how much they disappoint.

So lovely to look at
big balloons
floating in
the brilliant summer skies
as I drive along
a lonely desert highway.

Too bad you ruined it
by being so hateful
and everything
you should not be,
because you could not be
anything
but a bag filled
with hot air.

Homeward Bound

“Where that blue trailer is used to be a flowered hill.
Dad found some Abenaki arrowheads over there, sharp still.
Over on this side were two old well-climbed willow trees.”
They tore down the house but I rebuilt it in my memories.

16 years ago our family moved away from the old farm,
Now I visit, trying to show my daughter its charm,
“Along here we grew carrots, corn, lettuce and peas…”
They tore down the house but I rebuilt it in my memories.

Bulldozers came and beat, bladed, and shaped the land,
changing everything my dad built with his own hand.
I was sad to see it all gone, like a spring breeze.
They tore down the house but I rebuilt it in my memories.

“Where that blue trailer is used to be a flowered hill…”
They tore down the house but I rebuilt it in my memories.

Hammered

I have heard sawdust bakes up nice…

Hammer in his tin shed…
Hammer at supper time.

Tried to sleep in this morning,
but the neighbor started
beating out a tune with his hammer.
Someone please take his hammer away.

The hammerhead bought house number eight,
decided to take a wall out, and make the kitchen bigger.

I know I complain about everything,
but I might just get out my chainsaw
at midnight and chop down the trees
that hang over my good neighbor-making fence.

Maybe the neighborly thing would be
to take a freshly baked cake over
and let him stop for morning tea.
(I’ll hide his tools while he is eating!)

Hammer in his tin shed…
Hammer at supper time?

If he doesn’t stop by dinner,
I’ll put more than his hammer away for him!
He is in his aluminum shed hammering away
and it is echoing all over the neighborhood.
If he has to build something,
I hope it is a soundproofed workshop.

Tried to sleep in this morning,
but the neighbor started
beating out a tune with his hammer.
Someone please take his hammer away.

Hammer in the morning…
Hammer in the evening…

I have heard sawdust bakes up nice…